Lay Your Weary Head to Rest
by ALMH
Summary: Harry has not turned up to work, and the team are worried. Set after the series 7 finale, slight mention of Harry/Someone pairing.
1. Chapter 1 The beginning of the end

Ten thirty. Harry isn't normally this late, Lucas mused. He had no meetings planned as far as anyone knew, which made his non-entrance seem even more confusing. Ros seemed indifferent to his so far non arrival into work. Then again, with Ros, you could never tell. Her face always seemed so emotionless, so guarded around other people. A useful trait for a spy.

Everyone else on the Grid seemed on edge as well. Harry had always been so devoted to the job - it had cost him so much, and it had always seemed that it was the only thing keeping him going. According to rumours, Harry had fallen in love with one of his officers, and the service killed her, caused her to drown herself in the Thames. Strictly speaking, Oliver Mace killed her, not the service, but the service were full of his type. Politicians, corrupt politicians who use the service for their own private uses. It was their job to fight terror, not to serve politicians private agendas.

Lucas held his hand poised over the phone. Should he call or not? He saw Jo's nervous gaze at him, and quickly made up his mind. He picked up the phone, and suddenly all eyes were on him. Quickly he dialled Harry's number, listening to the phone dialling. It went to voicemail straight away. He allowed the phone to gently drop back into it's original position. He didn't need to look up to see the worry in Jo's eyes.

"He shouldn't be this late," Ros said softly. Lucas nearly jumped at the noise, not expecting to hear Ros sounding slightly worried. Then again, he had noticed that she seemed particular grateful to Harry - according to Connie, Ros had been a mole for an Iranian Organisation called Yalta. She was lucky to be alive - the official reports had stated her death. The entire team had attended the funeral, only for her to reappear a year or so later. Lucas sighed internally - Connie. Dead Connie, traitorous Connie. Though despite all this, he had saved their lives by defusing the bomb, killing herself in the process.

"What are we meant to do?" Jo asked. She had started biting her fingernails and looked as if she wanted to just collapse in a ball. As Harry's third in command, he knew Jo's story. Lost her friend, who had been tortured to death, sick mother, raped, and lost her mentor only six months ago. He kept a friendly eye out for her, although she seemed to want to do it all herself.

No one spoke for a moment. Lucas took a deep breath. "I know for a fact that six have a team posted on his house. If we could get into the database -"

"Then we could see if he left his house this morning," Jo continued, slightly happier now they had a course of action. Everyone crammed round Lucas's desk as he typed furiously. A couple of minutes later, and they were in to the six database. He eyes lit up, his face carefully void of emotion as he made the quick move into their database. He navigated his way through the various folders, until he reached the folder containing the information about the team watching Harry. With held breath he clicked on the folder. In the folder there contained many videos, the most recent at the top. He clicked the first video, quickly speeding through it to watch Harry leaving the house in his usual work outfit. The surveillance footage recorded his journey into work, and the last footage that 6 appeared to have on him showed him entering Thames House.

Jo looked nervously at Lucas. "Maybe he's just got a meeting -"

"I checked his diary an hour ago, he doesn't," Ros replied sharply. "Lucas, go onto internal footage." Lucas obeyed her command, and made it into the footage for this morning. They watched him walk up the steps, make his way onto the Grid and sit in his office. There was a camera positioned in his office as well so they watched that. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until the picture suddenly flickered. "Stop!" Ros nearly yelled, "Go back a bit." As Lucas took the video back to where the picture flickered.

"Someone's edited the footage," he realised. He looked around impatiently. "Where's Malcolm?" Ros walked quickly away, and returned shortly, practically dragging Malcolm back with her. Lucas vacated the chair and stood up, facing Malcolm.

"What's going on?" he asked, baffled. He looked round nervously, looking for a way out.

"Malcolm, someone's tampered with this footage of Harry in his office, probably Harry himself," Lucas briefly explained. "Can you get the original back?" Malcolm sat down, mumbling something about how he'd try his best. Furiously typing away, the rest of the team waited nervously for Malcolm's magic to work. Ros had her hand on the back of the chair as she leant over and watched him, her knuckles white.

He continued to type for ten or so minutes, the tension building up. No one knew what to expect, when Malcolm finally managed to get the original video back. All anxiously watched as the video played. Harry sat down at his desk, quickly checked something on his computer (although what exactly they could not tell as the camera could not see the front of the computer screen.) It all looked perfectly innocent, until they saw Harry directly look up at the camera. He gave a weak smile, and placed an envelope in his drawer, before standing back up again and leaving. Malcolm stopped the video as Ros, Lucas and Jo turned round and headed straight for his office. Lucas and Jo remained in the doorway as Ros strode in, pulling open his drawer. Malcolm started to make his way over, and joined them in the doorway as Ros found the letter.

She stared at them both closely, then looked up at the others. "It's addressed to all of us."

"Open it," Lucas asked her and she obeyed, opening up the envelope and pulling out the letter.

She cleared her throat quickly, then started to read.

"To Ros, Lucas, Jo and Malcolm,

I'm sorry for all the drama to lead up until this point, but it was necessary. Before I explain exactly what is going on, please let me tell you my motives, so you can better understand why I am doing this.

I've been in the service nearly all of my working life, been through all the good times and the bad, as the cliché goes. I have made good and bad decisions, saved lives and destroyed lives. I used to admire the men who were in my position, who seemingly had everything. Only in the past few years have I realised that they, and I actually have nothing left. I destroyed my family a long time ago, and all other relationships. I have lost many of the people that I valued, trusted and loved above all other things. To say that I feel life is not worth living would be melodramatic, yet perhaps also true. Friedrich Nietzsche once said "We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh."

But I hasten to add that I do not blame the service for all the problems I face, rather I blame myself. I have learnt a lot from it, mostly from the people involved. You all have been superb members of the team, and I hope that you will remain on Section D. You all have truly admirable qualities. Ros, Lucas, I have offered your names forward as a replacement for my post, although if you wish not to accept the place, that is perfectly fine. And Jo, it does not seem that long ago that you joined the service, ready to help your country, yet you have matured throughout the few years you have been here. I realise that the last few months have hit you hard, so I have a piece of advice for you that I never followed, although in hindsight, perhaps I should. You are a superb agent, I only wish to tell you one thing, that success is not how high you rise within the service, but how much you enjoy your life. You could rise through the ranks rapidly, but never be happy. Just be happy.

And now to tell you my plan. I have wanted to leave the service for a number of months, and just be an ordinary member of the public. I fear that this can never be the case - the service continues to track long after we leave, especially people in my position. I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, searching for a team of watchers that may or may not be there. I don't want to be found by the service again. I just want to be an observer to the world, not an active participant. Sit in a cafe and watch the people go by, without a surveillance van and back up. I told someone this a long time ago, and asked them (indirectly) if they would come with me on a trip. Now I can go and ask them again, to start to have a new life. I hope that you can all understand this, although I realise that you may not.

I am sorry to ask this, but I do need a favour of you. Please can you put the CTV footage back together - I have a file saved under 823743 in the video files, password routecode***, it contains some footage that you can use. It shows me entering the Grid, collecting a file, then leaving.

Good luck for the future. I have every faith in you.

Harry Pearce.

P.S. Please could you destroy this letter after reading, or look after it carefully. It would rather defeat the purpose of appearing to be dead if they knew it was only a facade."

Ros looked up, and looked at the team. They all wore faces similar to hers, faces that tried to conceal the emotional turmoil they were undergoing. She could understand his reasons for leaving, yet also felt betrayed that he was doing this, leaving them behind.

"Right," Ros said authoritatively, taking control of the situation. After all, someone had to. "This is what we do. Malcolm, put the footage back together. Jo, Lucas, help Malcolm in any way. If he does not need help, get back to your normal work. As soon as the footage is done, get back to your normal duties. We carry on like it is a normal day. If anyone asks us afterwards, say that we did not think it was odd that he was out all day - we thought it might have been an emergency all day meeting. Alright?" Everyone nodded and left, barely speaking to each other through out the day. The finishing touches had barely been put on the CTV, when the Director General came onto the Grid. He said Harry's car had been found. Someone had placed a bomb underneath. It was nearly impossible to prove that it was him... Although it appeared that there was only one person in the car, and his chauffeur was at home.

"Everyone reacted perfectly," Ros thought later as she sat in the pub with everyone else, a glass raised to Harry. They easily fooled the Director General of their innocence and shock, and there was to be no suspension for the team, no investigation into them. So as they raised a glass to Harry Pearce, the best head of Section D that they had ever known, they also hoped that he had found his happiness.


	2. Chapter 2 Harry's Future Revealed

It was almost two years later. Their team had been constantly changing over the years - with the regular changes in analysts, Ben's replacements rarely lasting long (although whether this was due to a harsher environment that they had to work in, or because of Ros' leadership, no one knew,) and Malcolm had taken early retirement. His retirement was a shock for them - none having ever known Section D without him. Neither had anyone known it without Harry Pearce.

They had become closer because of it, the three of them. Ros had stayed as she ever was, but proved to be an excellent leader alongside Lucas. They complimented each other as they worked together - one of the rare cases where joint leadership worked. Jo stayed in the service, but had still found happiness. Ros and Lucas made sure to include her, and the sight of the three of them at the end of a long week or operation, sitting in a pub drinking alcohol together, was not unfamiliar. The joint heads of Section D kept a close eye on her, offering her support if and ever she needed it.

They sat in Lucas' sitting room, the compulsory glass of wine being drunk by every person. Sometimes they spoke, sometimes no one did. Either way they were all comfortable. It was one of those quiet evenings, where no one spoke. They were all simply content in their own company. Finally Jo broke the silence.

"I got a postcard this morning," she blurted out to the silent room. No one really reacted to the news.

"From a friend? Where were they on holiday?" Lucas asked, more out of polite conversation than actual interest. Jo dug the already slightly creased photograph out of her coat and handed it straight to Ros. Lucas moved out of his chair to stand behind Ros to read it. On the back, it only had Jo's address, no message. Ros turned over, to the image of some islands, somewhere neither of them recognised. It was then they noticed the corner of the photograph. Quickly Ros peeled back the photo to reveal a separate image inside. No one spoke.

Finally Jo took it back, placing it carefully in a hidden part of her coat that no one would ever think to look in. Lucas moved back to his seat, sinking down deep into it.

"He's happy," Lucas told them simply. And that was all that really mattered. They raised their glasses in a silent toast to their former boss. Lucas never mentioned the photograph again, although he silently was glad that his boss had found happiness elsewhere, had managed to survive outside the Service, Jo also feeling the same. Only Ros had any feelings of guilt.

She asked Jo if she could borrow the postcard one day. She asked quietly of course, not wanting to draw attention to it. Jo allowed her to borrow it, without asking any questions. Ros was glad. That evening she went home early, left work as soon as possible. If anyone noticed this, no one said.

So, there she was. At home, or the place known as home. She had never felt that she'd belonged there. Carefully she placed her coat over a chair, folding it neatly. Her next step was towards the kitchen, to pour herself a large glass of white wine. Finally she sat down on the sofa, curled up with her glass of wine. She brought out the postcard again, staring at the two people shown on it, in particular the woman next to Harry. Slowly, but steadily the tears started to fall as all her past regrets came back. She had told Mace out of nothing more than jealousy. Ruth had had everything - a man who practically worshipped her, she was part of the group on the Grid, she was amazing at her job, and even had a fully functioning family. Everything Ros Myers never had, and could never be, and as soon as Ruth had made a mistake, she had pounced on her, wanting to punish her, to make her hurt as she hurt. It was never the right thing to do, perhaps even the worst thing she could ever have done. And for that night, and that night only, she had allowed the mask to slip, and the internal feelings that Ros normally kept hidden were revealed.

The next day the mask was replaced, the postcard returned. The only evidence of her internal turmoil was the invisible stain of tears on her sofa cushion.


End file.
